


Nursery Rhymes are Deadly

by swimsalot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fan Art, M/M, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John have a new puzzle ahead of them. Crimes are being committed that seem reminiscent of classic nursery rhymes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. London Bridge is Falling Down

**London Bridge is Falling Down**

Another long, boring day. Sherlock and John hadn't had a case in over two weeks and the doctor could tell the boredom was beginning to take its toll on the detective. The man would occasionally stand up walk to the door or the window then stop and turn quickly and half run half shuffle over to the other side of the apartment. Twice he had gone to the fridge, opened it, stared inside then slammed the door making his flatmate jump in surprise.

"Will you sit down please? You're making me nervous." John said finally, slamming his computer shut. He had been trying to update his blog but unfortunately Sherlock's constant movement was becoming a bit of a distraction.

"You like being nervous." Sherlock countered, not even looking at him.

"True as that may be I would like to focus. Sit down and watch the telly or something." the doctor said.

"Eh. Boring." the detective said returning to the sofa and falling onto it none to gracefully.

"I'm sure something will turn up soon." John said, adding in a mumble "I might end up killing someone."

Sherlock looked at him smirking slightly. "Please John, I believe I know you well enough to spot any crime you might commit from miles away."

John opened his mouth to retort when the door to the flat burst open revealing a very tired looking Lestrade. 

"Thank God." the doctor said, sighing happily. "Please tell me you have a case for him the man is driving me mad."

"Not really. We got an interesting prank from some kids but that's nothing. No, I was hoping you could help us find Sergeant Donovan. She didn't come in today or yesterday. It's not like her." Lestrade said.

"Isn't it? Perhaps she and Anderson have decided to take a little vacation." Sherlock said haughtily.

"Anderson has been in and says he hasn't seen her." Lestrade said.

Looking thoroughly uninterested sherlock turned away. To further this point he turned on the telly allowing the dabble of some news program to fill the apartment.

"Listen Sherlock I know you don't like her but she could be in some kind of trouble. We could really use your-"

"Found her." Sherlock said, cutting the Detective Inspector off.

"How? You haven't even gotten up!" Lestrade cried, feeling a bit annoyed.

"Didnt' need to." Sherlock said, pointing at the screen. "She's on the telly."

"What?" John and Lestrade said together, leaning toward the television.

It was true. Wrapped tightly in heavy ropes and dangling from the bottom of London Bridge was Sergeant Sally Donovan, looking terrified. The camera that was on her zoomed out, now showing the face of a pretty but clearly concerned journalist holding a microphone.

"We have yet to confirm who the woman might be but from what we've gathered it appears to be Sergeant Sally Donovan, a member of the London police force. As of yet rescue workers have not been able to figure out how Ms. Donovan was attached to the bridge or how best to get her down. The police have yet to arrive on the scene but we areexpecting their arrival any moment." the reporter said.

"Is that London Bridge?" Lestrade asked.

"Clearly. You sound surprised." Sherlock said, looking up at him.

"Well yeah." the detective inspector replied, his eyes still glued on the screen. "The prank we got. Someone sent us a recording of the nursery rhyme London Bridge is Falling Down."

Sherlock's brow creased in confusion. "The what?"

"You know,the nursery rhyme." John said. Seeing Sherlock's still confused expression he sighed and sang lightly "You know London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady?"

"What the hell is that?" Sherlock asked.

"Its a nursery rhyme, well, part of one. Kids sing them for fun. Most have some root in history but-"

"Does it matter?" Lestrade asked cutting the doctor off. "It's a kids' game. It's not important." 

"Which is probably why I don't know it." Sherlock said, jumping up from the couch and grabbing his coat and hat. "But it is interesting."

"How so?" Lestrade asked as he and John followed the pale man out of the flat.

Sherlock grinned. "Let us assume that whoever kidnapped Donovan also sent you the rhyme, which seems likely considering the timing. Then we can assume that Donovan is part of the rhyme the "My fair lady" bit. From that I assume even your puny little mind can deduce that the rest of the rhyme will follow. In other words, London Bridge is going to be falling down. Taxi!"

The three men clambered into the small cab which on sherlock's order sped off to the bridge. Flashing his police badge and keeping the other two close behind him Lestrade managed to get them onto the bridge which had been closed due to the attempted rescues currently being executed. 

"John, go see if you can find some rope." Sherlock ordered, making his way to the side closest to where Donovan was dangling.

"Sherlock what are you planning?" the doctor asked nervously.

The detective didn't answer but smiled knowingly. Sighing John rushed off, returning shortly with a length of rope and a harness having guessed what Sherlock was thinking of attempting. 

"Here." he said, handing the materials over to the taller man.

"A harness? Well done John you're deductive skills are certainly improving." he said with a small smile. Quickly he harness himself and attached the rope to it. "Do you think you can hold me?" he asked.

"Maybe. I'd feel better if Lestrade was helping out." the ex-soldier said, waving the detective inspector over to them.

"Got an idea Holmes?" Lestrade asked, eying the harness warily.

"Yes." he said, handing him and Johyn the rope and climbing onto the railing.

John smiled a little shakily at Lestrade. "Hold on tight. We don't want to drop him."

"Bloody hell." the older man said with a small shake of his head.

Suddenly Sherlock jumped off the edge of the bridge. He fell for a short time befrore stopping suddenly, now dangling much like Donovan was beneath the bridge. He saw quickly that he had been wrong before, that she was not hanging below the middle of the bridge but was instead attached to the closer edge of the bridge's underside, well within reach.

"Morning Donovan. Bit late for work aren't you?" he asked calmly.

"Shut up freak." she said, clearly terrified. "We need to get out of here, there's a bomb attached the bottom of the bridge. It's set to go off any minute."

Sherlock's smile faded and he nodded. He reached out and pulled her to him, holding her tightly against his chest. "You'll need to hang on. Lestrade would be unhappy with me if I dropped you." 

Sally nodded her agreement and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, allowing him to cut her free of the rope she was dangling from. Once she was free he tugged at the rope and they were quickly pulled to safety.

"We need to get everyone off the bridge." Sherlock yelled to Lestrade before his feet were even firmly on the ground. "Sally says there's a bomb strapped to the bottom of the bridge set to go off any minute."

Instantly Lestrade set to work, taking off towards the rescue crews and sending them away while calling Scotland Yard to send officers to secure the bridge and make sure no one was on it, leaving Sherlock and John to escort sally to a waiting ambulance.

Barely thirty seconds after the were all clear of the bridge a resounding thunder-like clap filled the air. The center of London Bridge exploded sending debris and rubble flying through the air and raining down into the river. The bridge began to crumple leaving a gaping hole at least three yards across.

"Bloody hell." John said, eyes glued on the damage. 

"Any ideas who did this Sherlock?" Lestrade asked, rejoining them by the bridge's edge.

The detective shook his head. "No. But I do have a few ideas why."

Half an hour later the three men and Donovan sat in Lestrade's office at Scotland Yard. Sherlock had yet to explain anything from the bridge despite being asked several times by the detective inspector.

"Are you going to say anything?" Donovan asked.

"The point of the bombing," Sherlock said with a sigh. "Was not to kill anyone."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Lestrade cried angrily. 

The consulting detective rolled his eyes. "If he was trying to kill someone he would not have made it so obvious something was wrong. By kidnapping Donovan he ensured that the bridge would be clear. He meant to do the same with the rhyme but figured soon afterward that you wouldn't take it seriously so he had to do something bigger."

"How do you know it was a he?" John asked.

"Statistically more likely." Shelrock waved the question off.

"What if he was just trying to stay true to the rhyme?" Lestrade interjected.

"Useless. The important part of the rhyme was 'London Bridge is Falling Down' 'My Fair Lady' could refer to anything or anyone. It's unimportant. But he needed to catch the media's attention and more to the point get your attention and clear the bridge. He wasn't trying to kill anyone or make any kind of point." suddenly Sherlock smiled. "He was testing us. Well you. I don't think he expected me to get involved."

"What's the point of testing the police?" John asked incredulously.

"For fun?" Sherlock shrugged. "Or...no...He WANTS to get caught. He wanted you to figure the rhyme out and then stop it. He wants to see if you're smart enough or fast enough. He's just having fun."

"Sounds an awful lot like you, freak." Donovan said.

"Yes. Yes it does." Sherlock agreed, shooting a quick glance at John. "And I can only think of one person who'd do something like this."

John sighed heavily. "Moriarty."

They all sat in a stunned silence for a time, finally broken by a knock at the door. 

"Come in." Lestrade said hoarsely.

His secretary opened the door holding a large envelope. "Sorry to disturb you sir but this just arrived for you."

"Thank you." he said taking it from her. She left and he opened the envelope and turned it over. A small tape record rolled out into his open palm. The four of them exchanged a quick look before Lestrade hit play.

Children's voices filled the silent room made scratchy and coarse by the poor speakers on the tape recorder but the words were perfectly understandable.

_"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,_  
Humpty dumpty had a great fall.  
All the kings horses and all the kings men,  
Couldn't put Humpty together again." 


	2. Humpty Dumpty

"Humpty dumpty sat on a wall....Well clearly the name is meaningless. It's just a title, part of the original rhyme. No clues there." 

Sherlock had been sitting on the sofa for close to an hour, hands steepled in his usual mock-praying fashion and cold grey eyes fixed on a spot straight ahead of him.He hadn't moved once since they had gotten back from Scotland Yard, John didn't think he'd even blinked. 

"We need to look into the poem more symbolically. Tear it apart, disect it into it's smallest pieces. John, a pen!" He suddenly thrust his hand in his flatmate's general direction. 

Luckily the doctor had been expecting this and had a pen ready along with a piece of paper to hand over. Snatching them up quickly enough to give John a small paper cut, Sherlock began writing swiftly, his handwriting as impeccable as always. A full forty-five seconds later he set the pen down, reading over the lines he had written as if the answer would just jump out at him. 

"You said there was some sort of historical context to the rhymes?" Sherlock asked.

John jumped, slightly startled at actually being addressed by the engrossed man. "Well yeah but I don't think it has anything to do with this. I mean, it was originally about a cannon."

Sherlock nodded, "I agree, not relevant. Most likely it has to do with an actual living person who is most likely going to be thrown or pushed from some great height. Obvious enough. But who?" he ran his hands through his hair. "Possibly there's a double meaning. A symbolic as well as physical fall. A fall from grace. And the 'kings men'. Doctors? No, no. No effect on a fall from grace. Policemen, politicians-"

"Mycroft?" John interrupted jokingly.

Sherlock turned and grinned at him. "Exactly John! Brilliant! What would I do without you!"

"Buy your own damn milk?" Watson asked coldly.

"Oh shut up." Sherlock said, whipping out his phone. He hit a few keys before raising the phone to his ear. "Mycroft? I need a favor. Do you currently have anyone under observation? For anything, I don't care what....Yes....Yes....No within our own government, thank you very much....Really? Thank you Mycroft for once you've actually been helpful." And with that he hung up.

"Anything good?" John asked.

"We have two different options. A crooked policeman and a businessman who they think may have been smuggling drugs overseas. From what we know the own who the 'king's men' would try to 'put back together' and by that I mean undo everything he has done the most likely choice would be the businessman." he answered, already grabbing his coat. 

"Are we going to Scotland Yard?" John asked, also rising from his seat. 

Sherlock shook his head. "No time. We're going directly to the businessman's house. We can call Lestrade on the way."

John nodded and followed him out the door. They quickly grabbed a cab (Sherlock seemed to have a natural talent for hailing them.) Next thing he knew they were flying through the streets, taking seemingly random turns. Maybe they only seemed random because Sherlock had yet to divulge their final location to John.

"Mind telling me where we're headed?" the doctor asked finally. 

Sherlock took no notice of him, opting instead to continue texting who John could only assume was Lestrade.

"Sherlock?" John asked again.

"No time. We're here."

The cab stopped and Sherlock climbed out, running off and leaving John behind him to pay the cabby. They had arrived on a busy street in front of a large office building that John assumed was where the businessman worked. But when they arrived they found a crowd already forming around the bottom of the building and ambulances roaring down the street towards them.

"Do you think he jumped?" John heard a woman say as he pushed his way through the crowd after Sherlock.

He caught up to the consulting detective, finding him standing perfectly still, staring down at a broken body lying face down on the pavement. Bloody was still leaking from the corpse, forming a large puddle around it.

"He must have just fallen." John said "If he had fallen much more than five minutes ago the pooling would be much greater." he looked up at Sherlock. "The killer might still be here. We might be able to catch him."

Sherlock shook his head slowly. "No. You know Moriarty, John, do you really think he'd stick around?"

The doctor shook his head. "No. I suppose not. What now then?"

"We go see Lestrade."

"In case he has another tape?"

The consulting detective nodded. "He will."

They turned to go, pushing their way back through the gathering crowd and arriving paramedics and officers only to find Lestrade already waiting for them.

"Another tape?" Sherlock asked.

Lestrade nodded. "I got a call from Scotland Yard right after I got here."

"He moves fast then, or isn't working alone. The victim was pushed no more than eight minutes ago according to John." sherlock said.

Lestrade looked at the doctor. "Are you sure?"

"It's hard to say without a proper autopsy but from the blood pooling and the amount of blood still leaving the body I can make a basic estimate." he said with a shrug.

"Never mind that, has anyone listened to the tape?" Sherlock asked.

"No. I told them not to play it until I got back." Lestrade answered.

"Then we're wasting time!" Sherlock growled, "I assume you drove here?" The detective inspector nodded. "Then we'll take your car, come on John."

Thanks to Sherlock's backseat driving (or to put it more accurately, calling Lestrade an idiot and telling him which turns to take) they arrived back at Scotland Yard and were in Lestrade's office in under ten minutes. Sitting on his desk was another plain tape recorder. Not a word was spoken as he lifted it up and hit the 'play' button.

Once again children's happy voices sang out from the small speakers.

"Ring a-ring o' roses  
a pocketful of posies  
atishoo, atishoo  
we all fall down"

**Author's Note:**

> More chapters will be up soon. Please leave comments with constructive criticism, I wrote this a while ago and am happy to make edits.


End file.
